STANDARD WARNING: This is a
work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead,
is pure coincidence. Do not read this story if you are offended
by man-to-man romance or sex. Do not read if you are underage
according to the laws in the country, state/province, county,
city/town/village or township where you live. There is sex
between males. You have been warned!

Copyright 2001 by Nick Archer.
Permission is granted to Nifty Archives, ASSGM, and gaywritings,
to post one copy. No part may be copied, reproduced, republished,
or reposted on another website without written permission from
the author.

Family Instincts

By Nick Archer

Chapter 21

Marty thought to himself, Im like
a bee buzzing around a flower. Or perhaps a fly buzzing around
shit is a more apropos comparison.

It was the Sunday night of the Memorial Day
weekend, and he was cruising around Boys Town looking for
Vince again. He just couldnt get enough of Vince. Sure,
Marty knew it was all a facade. He knew it was all a carefully
constructed image to get and maintain customers. Still, he wanted
more. Marty admitted to himself ruefully that Vinces
tactics had worked.

He saw two figures enter the gyros shop at
the corner of Belmont and Clark, and he thought one was Vince. At
least, from the back it looked like Vince.

Frantically, he looked for a parking spot,
but of course, it was quite impossible. So he parked in The
Century parking garage. It would cost him, but perhaps it would
be worth it.

As he descended the ramps of the mall, he
told himself: Youre a crazy bastard, Martin. Youre
chasing after a hustler. You are in love with a street kid.
Its insane.

And yet, he kept walking.

"You have some yogurt sauce on your
chin," Scott pointed out to Vince.

"Thanks, Kit." Vince swiped at it
with a napkin, then crumpled it.

"What, Viv?" It was their private
joke, Vince was Vivian, the Julia Roberts character in Pretty
Woman, and Scott was Kit.

"Are you gonna start hiding the rent
money in the toilet tank?"

Just then, Marty walked in the gyros shop.
He entered because it offered shelter from the relentless
drizzle. His nostrils detected the scent of lamb meat and garlic
and cucumbers and his stomach growled in response. He wasnt
really hungry, but he ordered a cheeseburger anyway. Then, he
recognized the two young men at the table.

Marty shook his hand limply. Scott had a
look in his eyes that reminded him of puppies that were about to
be euthanized at the Humane Society.

"Were just about done here, then
maybe we can take a look at your car again."

My car? Marty thought. Is it some
kind of code? After Marty thought about it, he realized that
Vince was responding to a public situation. Even though many of
the shopkeepers knew who he was and what he did for a living, he
still insisted on maintaining his image. Well, thats what
he gets paid for.

Marty scraped a chair across the linoleum
and straddled it, with the back of the chair to his chest. The
burger was juicy and delicious even without condiments. In a
short time, they crumpled the paper wrappers, placed them on the
plastic tray and Scott dumped it in a trash bin.

"Do you mind if I bring my drink in
your car?" Scott asked.

It struck Marty as odd for a street kid to
be asking if he could bring his drink in his car. At least he
has manners.

"Where are you parked?" Vince
asked.

"In The Century garage."

The two younger men followed him into The
Century and up the elevators to the fifth level. The trio paused
at Cignal, a very trendy mens clothing store to browse.

"Can I help you?" A very thin,
gay man asked in a nasal voice.

"Were just looking," Vince
said cheerfully.

"Well, were about to
close." Everything about the sales clerk oozed attitude; his
posture, his facial expression and his voice.

"Listen, bitch, I make more money in a
week than you do in a year."

"Dont make me call
security."

"You work on commission?"

"I dont see where thats
any...."

"Do you?"

"Well, yes."

"You just lost a big fucking sale. Big
mistake."

Marty had a grudging admiration for
Vinces performance.

As he unlocked the car, Marty asked,
"So where can I drop you off, Scott?"

"On Aldine. Ill show you how to
get there."

Vince gave Scott a confidential wink, and
started his performance. "Scotts homeless. He really
has no place to go."

"Im sorry to hear that."

"We thought he could come with
us."

The smile vanished from Martys face.
"Well, you thought wrong."

"Why not?"

"Scott is underage, for one thing. And
the thought of having two hustlers in my house at the same time
doesnt strike me as very smart or safe. Ill probably
end up a headline in the Sun-Times."

They protested at the same time. "No,
not true." "Wait a fucking minute...."

Before he could grab them, they were both
out of the car. Vince strutted around the front of the car to the
drivers window.

Vince unleashed his best acting skills. His
face wore a look of concern and his voice gentle. "Look,
man. Scotts like a little brother to me. Hes going
through a tough time right now. Hes really a great kid. Hey
 you get two for one tonight. Im having a sale
because I like you. You dont even need a coupon."

Marty chuckled for the first time and
relaxed. "Im not going to have sex with Scott. Not
that hes not attractive, but hes too young."

"Cool, man, thats OK. Just like
to play it safe, and I cant blame you. He does have a cute
little bubble-butt, doesnt he?" Vince licked his lips.

Marty was faltering. Vince had put on such
a show. And Marty wanted him again. He was more than willing to
pay, but Vince didnt bargain on a third wheel. But there
was something so endearing about Vince and his concern about
Scott, even if it was an act. Vince was going through a great
deal of effort to see to Scotts welfare. Finally, Marty
relented.

"Ok, fine. Now, where are we? Show me
how to get back to Lake Shore Drive."

Martys microwave worked overtime
reheating leftovers. Scott was inhaling vast quantities of food. At
least I wont have to clean out the refrigerator, Marty
thought. Scott sat in the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket. His
uncombed hair was still damp from the lengthy shower he had just
taken. Vince sauntered into the kitchen wearing only his boxers.
He patted Scott on the shoulder.

"You clean up real good, kid."

Scott grinned. "Thanks, Viv."
They laughed at their private joke.

When Scott had eaten his fill, Marty showed
him to one of the unoccupied bedrooms, where he wrapped himself
in yet another blanket and promptly fell asleep. Marty watched
his face that was so youthful and untroubled in sleep. Marty
thought he looked like a giant cocoon. He is a cocoon,
Marty thought. He is a young man waiting to break out of his
cocoon. But will he be a butterfly or a moth when the
metamorphosis is over?

Vince was waiting for him in the master
bedroom. He took Martys hands and looked him directly in
the eyes. Then, he stood on his tiptoes and gave Marty a long,
passionate kiss.

Marty grinned. "What was that
for?"

"For trusting us. Not many people
do."

"Just dont break my trust."

Vince shook his head ever so slightly.

"Get up, Jake! Get your butt in the
shower and upstairs! Move it!"

He pulled the pillow over his head and
groaned. "Oh, man! Why do I have to?"

"Were going to a Memorial Day
ceremony."

"You and your educational field
trips." He rolled away from Matt. "Its raining. I
want to stay in bed."

Matt gritted his teeth. "As long as
youre living here, you play by my rules. Now, get your ass
out of bed! Now!"

Jake glared at Matts back as he
ascended the stairs.

The morning was cool, damp and foggy. The
rain had slowed to drizzle. Their field trip had been Matts
idea, of course. He drove the Jeep to a cemetery in Steger, which
was a short drive from Park Forest. The boys alternated between
whining about being dragged out of bed, and pestering Matt about
where they were going.

"Its a short ceremony and
its outside. Thats why I wanted you to wear your
raincoats and bring umbrellas."

They had to park a distance from the
gravesite and walk the narrow, winding lane that was lined with
cars. Their destination was a large, white canvas awning.

"Thank you for coming," a priest
greeted them as soon as the five were seated in metal folding
chairs. "We are here to celebrate and remember the life of
Allan Schindler."

Two readers stood behind music stands about
ten yards apart. They read from a script back and forth in rapid
succession. It was obvious that they had practiced their script
before. Brian scanned the other audience members and correctly
guessed that they were the only kids that morning.

"Allen Schindler grew up in Chicago
Heights," the woman began, "and was aware of his
sexuality at an early age. Directly after his graduation from
high school, he joined the Navy, in part, in the hopes it would
make him a man."

The story continued with the two readers
taking turns. Allen Schindler kept a diary about his struggles in
a tiny, almost illegible hand. He struggled with his sexuality,
and longed to be himself, yet he knew that he could be discharged
if he admitted he was gay.

He first served on the aircraft carrier
Midway that was known as a relatively tolerant ship. Then, he was
reassigned to the Belleau Wood that had an unsavory reputation
for thuggish behavior by its crew. Schindler had been the target
of harassment. Finally, he admitted to the Executive Officer that
he was gay, most likely in the hopes being discharged.

In Sasebo, Japan on the evening of October
27, 1992, two shipmates, Terry Helvey and Charles Vins purchased
a large amount of liquor. Their plan was to drink it in a public
park. They spotted Schindler walking about ten yards ahead of
them. Schindler went into a public restroom in the park. Helvey
and Vins followed.

Allen Schindler died that night. He was
beaten so badly his mother could only identify him by the remains
of tattoos on his arms.

The investigation that followed was badly
managed by the Navy. His mother, Gladys Hadjys-Holman was not
told the entire truth. By this time, many in the audience were
sniffling or crying. Matt wrapped his arms around Brian and Tim
held Tommy. Jake remained stoic.

The service ended with a prayer. The
attendees were then invited to place a flower on his headstone.
They also greeted Mrs. Hadjys in the reception line. She had
linked with the gay community to uncover the truth and to prevent
Helveys release. She had appeared every year at
Helveys clemency hearings.

"You are the future," she told
Tommy, Jake and Brian as she embraced them. "Thank you so
much for coming."

"That was so neat," Tommy
commented as Matt drove them to breakfast.

They were just pulling into the parking lot
at Dennys when Jake mumbled. "I hated it."

"What?" Matt asked in shock.

"I said I hated it. Why did you take
us there?"

"You are way out of line, young
man."

"Matt, Ill take Tommy and Brian
inside and get a table."

"Thanks, Tim. Well be in. Just
give us a few minutes." After the last door shut out the
damp, cool air, Matt twisted around and faced him directly.
"What exactly is your major malfunction this morning?" Wrong
question, Matt thought.

"Im sorry. Lets go
in."

"Oh, no. Youre not getting off
that easy." Matt searched the downcast face. "What
prompted you to say something like that?"

"Hes dead. Nobody ever gave him
a chance," Jake started to sniffle. "I got a second
chance. I dont deserve it."

"Yes, you do, Jake. Everyone does. No
matter what theyve done. Youre a great kid, Jake.
Dont get stressed out about the future, kiddo. It will turn
out as it should be."

Jake looked skeptically at the man who had
taken him in and loved him as his own son. "Are you
sure?"

No matter how old your kids are,
Matt thought, they still want their parents to tell them
its going to be OK. So, even though Matt was far from
sure about the outcome, he answered, "Yes. Im sure.
Now lets go get breakfast before they run out of
sausages."

The rain refused to stop, and Tim set up
the grill on the back porch. Using an electric charcoal starter,
he sat on the edge of the rattan couch and watched the coals
slowly become embers. He pondered the memorial ceremony they had
attended earlier and how lucky he was to have to love of a man
such as Matt.

The guests began to arrive on cue. Matt had
requested that guests bring an item, and he and Tim would provide
the meat. Bill arrived first and he brought buns and rolls. Tommy
took him by the hand to show him the miniature zoo in his room.
Leah was next with her delicious potato salad.

Matt stepped out onto the porch. He put a
hand on Tims shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
"How are you doing?"

"Pretty good. Wonder who Marty is
bringing? He was pretty mysterious about it."

"Yes, he was. I have no idea."

Tim laughed and gave his lover a playful
shove.

Martys Lexus pulled in the parking
lot behind the building. Marty emerged, as well as two other
young men. From the passenger side, a man in his mid-twenties
appeared. He was slim and tall with a wide smile and large, round
heavy-lidded eyes. From the backseat another youngster appeared.
He was perhaps fifteen or sixteen, with dishwater blond hair and
blue eyes. He was dressed in super-baggy jeans and a polo shirt
at least three sizes too big for him. It came almost to his
knees. He swaggered as he approached the steps. Matt was
immediately wary.

"This is Vince," Marty introduced
him to Matt. He shook Matts hand firmly.

Matt and Marty laughed nervously. Matt
usually didnt judge people by first appearances, but Scott
was not making a good impression. Matt studied him.

He was much thinner than he should have
been, he had dark circles and bags under his eyes, and his skin
had an unhealthy paleness. His face was pierced in several places
including three in each ear, his eyebrow and just under his lower
lip. Had Scott stuck out his tongue, Matt would have seen that it
was pierced also. "Scott, you look so familiar. Have we met
before?"

"I dont think so, dude. Id
remember your husband if we did."

Matt glared at Scott and Tim nervously
shifted his weight.

Marty hustled them inside. "Come on in
and meet his sons."

"Hey!" Scott announced so loudly,
Matt could hear him from the porch. "Check out the shorties!
Wassup, homies?"

This was Scotts first encounter with
a normal family in more than a year and he wasnt sure how
to act. He had assumed an air of cockiness to cover his
insecurity and trepidation. Unfortunately it had backfired on
him. He was a street kid who knew how to handle himself in
Boys Town but not in a suburban home.

Jake and Tommy winced at Scotts
overbearing behavior. Brian had a panicky look on his face.

Tommy asked in his trademark blunt manner,
"Why are you talking like a black person?" Matt wanted
to burst out laughing.

"Dad," Brian took him by the
sleeve, "Can I see you in the kitchen?" When they were
safely in the other room, Brian looked left then right over his
shoulders. "Thats Scott! The one from New
Buffalo!"

"Are you sure? He looks
different."

"Yeah, he does. He looks like
hes sick. But Im sure."

Marty entered the kitchen. "What are
you two whispering about?"

"Just the person I wanted to talk to.
Umm, Brian, can you excuse us for a minute?"

"Whats up?"

"Who are those two?"

Marty gulped. "Theyre
hustlers."

"Youve got to get them out of
here. Scott is the one who almost raped Brian in New
Buffalo."

"Are you sure? Maybe..."

"Brian is sure," Matts
voice began rising, "and thats all that matters to me.
Bill and Leah rose from the dining room table where they had been
sitting and approached the kitchen.

Vince looked Matt directly in the eyes with
a touch of defiance. "We know what we are," he said
with quiet dignity.

"Guests?" The veins in his neck
were beginning to throb. "He tried to rape my son. I
dont invite people like that into my house."

"Ill take him outside,"
Bill volunteered. "Well be on the porch. Matt or Tim,
do you have a cell phone or a cordless I can borrow? I need to
make a few calls."

"Ill get the cordless for
you," Tommy volunteered immediately and ran upstairs.

"Who ya gonna call?" Scott asked.
"My mommy?"

Matts right hand tightened into a
fist. God, I wanna deck this kid, he thought.

Leah came to the rescue. "Lets
get some food," she chirped as she guided Matt to the snack
bar. "Some baked beans, Matt?" She began filling a
plate for him like a mother would do for a child. "How about
some of my potato salad? You love my potato salad." She even
pulled a chair out from the dining room table. "There, now.
Sit here. Very good, Matt. Were going to gather around this
table and talk this out."

Marty and Vince, Tim and the boys also
filled their plates. Normally, the boys would have retreated to
the basement away from the scrutiny of adult eyes. They remained
upstairs because they wanted to witness the unfolding drama. Or,
more specifically, listen to the unfolding drama. It was like
listening to an old-time radio show. Lux Radio Theater
Presents: The Hustler in Suburbia. Our drama begins right after
this word from our sponsor.

They all sat at the dining room table,
munching their food in silence. The only conversation was an
occasional request to pass the salt or ketchup. Their eyes were
dancers that changed partners often across the table. Their eyes
waltzed with one pair, then they parted as if an unseen
interloper had tapped them on the shoulder, and then they began
the dance with another pair. Their dance displayed a variety of
emotions; anger, worry, fear, even amusement and delight in
Scotts obvious discomfort.

Bills voice: "Park it. And wipe
that smile off your face." Bills voice had a hard,
emotionless quality that Matt had forgotten about. He had
forgotten how Bill could put the fear of God in a misbehaving
camper. Bill had obviously needed to keep the skill sharp.

Less than ten feet away from where they
were eating, Bill confronted Scott. They could hear the entire
conversation. Perhaps they are speaking louder because they
know they have an audience, Matt thought.

Bill: "Explain to me how you got to
this point. And watch your language."

Scott: "I dont know where to
start."

Bill: "Start at the beginning."

Scott began unfolding his story. He
explained emotionlessly about how his mother died when he was
very young and about his abusive father and four older brothers.
School was torture, too. There was an older student in his school
who dropped out due to all the harassment. He ran away to Chicago
a month before his fifteenth birthday.

He found his way to Boys Town and spent the
next two weeks sleeping in Lincoln Park and eating from
dumpsters. That was when Barry found him, fed him, enrolled him
in school by claiming Scott was his nephew and took him into the
townhouse on Aldine.

Bill: "You do know what happened to
Ted, right?"

Scott: "It was all over the
street."

Bill: "Do you know what
happened?"

Scott: "Not much. Ted found out he was
HIV positive. He blamed it all on Barry for not using rubbers. I
always made sure they used a rubber with me," Scott added
quickly. "Barry fought back with the fact that he found out
about all of Teds secret bank accounts. I couldnt
stand the screaming  it reminded me of home."

Bill: "So what did you do?"

Scott: "I just stayed away as much as
I could for as long as I could. When I first heard about it, I
went and got as much of my shit  oops, sorry  stuff
out of there as I could carry."

They heard Bills voice become quiet.
"What do you want, Scott?"

"I dont know. I dont want
to go back to townhouse. I cant. I guess Im tired of
hustling."

By this time, most of those at the dining
table had finished eating, and Leah and Marty walked silently
around the table picking up the empty paper plates and used
utensils.

There was a pause in the conversation
outside.

Scott: "Who are you calling?"

Bill: "DCFS. Im a mandated
reporter and I have to report child abuse."

"Damn right Ive been
abused!" A scrap of Scotts earlier bravado returned.

As Bill spoke to the abuse hotline, Marty
resumed his place at the table. Leah set out various desserts,
brownies, cookies and quivering Jell-O creations.

Scott: "Now who are you calling?"

Bill: "Park Forest Police."

Scott: "Fucker!"

Bill: "Sit down and do not move from
that spot!" There was a long pause. "Im calling
the police not to have you arrested but for your
protection."

"What do you mean?"

"Ted is dead and Barry is the main
suspect and Barry is missing. The police will want to know how
much you know about Barry and Ted. But hes not the only
one. Barry probably wants to know what you know. He killed once
 he may kill again."

"What are you trying to say? That he
would try to kill me?"

"Think about it, Scott. Who knows more
about their activities than you do? You lived with them for
almost a year."

"They wouldnt kill me. I bring
in too much cabbage for them to snuff me out."

"Youd better re-think that
illusion, mister. Barry killed his own partner, someone who he
knew longer than you have been alive. He wouldnt think
twice about killing you if he knew it would silence you. And you
have to remember that Barry and Ted are only part of the picture.
Theres a much larger organization that will be on the
lookout to protect itself."

There was a long pause as Bill called the
police. "Theyll be here soon," he told Scott.

Bills voice was emotionless and as
clear as a bell. "Ive got to make one more call,
Scott. I have to make a call to determine where you should go.
Before you answer, think carefully about your options. Your first
option is to go into the legal system. Youd end up at the
Audy Home, or maybe the boot camp. That will solve the short-term
problem, but what are you going to do when you get out? The next
option is to go back to Ashland to your natural father. And from
what youve said, that isnt much of an option. Another
possibility is to go back on the street. But you yourself said
you were tired of hustling. You would always be looking over your
shoulder. You never know if Barry will be waiting for you in some
dark alley. Even if the police take him into custody, someone
from the organization will be out to get you."

"The last option is to come to St.
Lukes."

"Fuck! I aint going to that
Illinois version of Boys Town."

"You would be safe and secure. You
would have three meals a day and a warm place to sleep. You could
catch up in school, maybe even graduate with your class. It could
change your life, Scott. And right now, it sounds like you need a
change."

Bill paused. "So who am I going to
call, Scott? Where are you going from here?"

There was a long, long interlude of silence
as Scott weighed his options. "Call St. Lukes,"
he said quietly, and then added, "please."

Inside the townhouse, most of the people
around the table smiled in relief and triumph.

"He made the right choice," Leah
said with a lilt in her voice.

"Im not sure even St.
Lukes can straighten that kid out," Matt grumbled.

"But he should at least have the
chance, shouldnt he, Dad?" Jake asked. "Even you
said everyone deserves a second chance."

Matt never realized he would have to eat
his words as a side dish.

A lone police car pulled up behind the row
of townhouses shortly thereafter. Bill introduced himself and
Scott. He explained the situation to the two officers who
listened with wide eyes. Murder was rare in their comfortable
suburb, and the appearance of a body in the neighboring forest
preserves had caused much consternation within the local law
enforcement community. The two officers never thought they would
be presented with such a key witness. Right in their laps!

They filed out the kitchen door and around
the police car to see Scott off.

Scott put a hand on Brians shoulder.
"Im sorry kid. I never meant to hurt you. And you
really are cute."

He shook hands with everyone, except Matt,
who refused to shake his hand.

Vince hugged the young hustler.

"See ya, Kit. Keep in touch."

"Bye, Viv. Take care of you."

He sat in the back seat of the patrol car.
Bill followed in his own vehicle.

Slowly, they filed back into the house.
"Lets play Trivial Pursuit," Brian suggested.
They greeted his idea with enthusiasm.

"Its your turn, Vince."

Vince rolled the dice and moved to a brown
space. "What does brown stand for?"

"Art and Literature," Tim said.
"Who painted the Sistine Chapel?"

"This is easy," Brian mumbled.

Vince thought for a while, then responded,
"Sherwin-Williams?"

They all laughed. The game proceeded around
the table. Tommy even answered two questions in a row and earned
a pink piece for the correct name of Lucille Balls first
child. The play returned to Vince. He rolled the die and ended up
on a green space.

"Science and Nature," Tim told
Vince before he read the question. "Define
horticulture."

"Im not very good at this
game." Vince chewed thoughtfully on a nail. "I give
up."

Sensing everyone was ready for a break in
the game, Matt stood up. "Anyone need another drink?"

"Id like a beer," Jake
piped up.

"Dream on, kiddo." Marty and Tim
followed him into the kitchen, while Leah and the boys chatted
easily with Vince.

Tim took Matt in his arms and kissed him.
"Daddy tiger protects his young. Ive never seen you so
protective."

Matt shrugged. "Paternal instincts, I
guess." He pulled several cans of pop out of the
refrigerator. "So, Marty, are you and Vince an item?"

"Im not sure," Marty
answered honestly.

"I like him. Hes not your
average hustler, is he? Theres something different about
him." Matt grinned. "Hes not very good at Trivial
Pursuit, is he?"

Marty grinned, "Well, you know what
they say. You can lead a horticulture, but you cant make
him think."

"One favor, Marty. No more surprise
guests, please."

Marty laughed. "Is it my guests? Or do
you just give lousy parties, Mary Richards?"

Matt hugged his best friend before they sat
down to resume the game.

Thanks for reading, hope you
enjoyed it. As always, your comments and suggestions are welcome.
I read and respond to all email (even if it takes a few days)
Just click on one of the links below. And don't forget to check
out my website (Chapters are always posted there earlier than
here) and my other story here on Nifty, Pocketful of Stars,
in the Young Friends section.